Carter's Drugstore
by katbybee
Summary: It's the mid-'80's in Muncie, IN. Eccentric town pharmacist Andrew Carter is beloved in the town, and perplexes and frustrates outsiders, which greatly amuses the locals. There is a sign behind his register, which he lives by... A Series of Snapshots. Presented in no particular order. unless noted. No relation to any of my other Carter stories. Usual useless disclaimers...Enjoy!
1. One for the Road--Not!

A/N: This takes place in the 80's and has no relationship to any of my other Carter stories. Andrew Carter is in his 60's and single. He decided to finish school after the war and earned his Pharmacist degree. He bought the town pharmacy with his GI Bill, and lives above the drugstore. He has grown even more eccentric as he has gotten older. He is known for the fact that he lives by the sign hanging behind his register. He is beloved in the town, and perplexes and frustrates outsiders, which greatly amuses the locals.

~HH~

The college kid was passing through town on the way back to school. He was out of a few things, and he figured he had better stock up while he had the chance. He was used to big cities, and this place, while not exactly a small hick town, did not impress him at all. He laughed when he saw a couple of old men lounging in rockers in front of a hardware store across the street from his destination. He roared to a stop in front of an old brick building with a sign on the front that read "Carter's Pharmacy."

He shook his head as he climbed out of his Corvette. He was startled when he noticed a grey-haired old geezer, wearing an old-fashioned white apron, standing on the porch watching him, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. For one moment, the boy nearly laughed. The resemblance to a cigar store Indian was uncanny. The man said nothing as the kid pushed past him and entered the unbelievably old-fashioned store. The fact that there were no customers didn't surprise the kid a bit.

The kid headed for the toiletries aisle. Carter stepped behind the register. He was irritated, but trying not to show it. He knew he was just being grumpy and probably a bit unfair, but he hated these spoiled kids headed to the university with their fancy clothes, and their fancy, noisy cars. And he hated the way the boy had looked down his nose at him when he had gotten out of the car. He and his friends had rotted and risked their lives in the Stalag for all those years for this punk? Kid could barely shave yet, and he acted like he was God's gift to the universe!

He shook his head, and picked up a shipping invoice, marking off the items he had stocked just before he had heard the kid racing up the street. He kept an eye on the boy as he did. He didn't really expect him to steal anything, but you could never tell these days. The kid finished selecting his items and brought them to the counter. He dropped them, then snapped his fingers, and reversed direction. He walked back to the cooler in the back and grabbed a bottle of beer.

He set the bottle on the counter, and pulled out his wallet. He flipped his driver's license out in a perfunctory manner. Andrew did not even look at it. He rung up most of the items, but stopped short of the last item. "I can't sell you the beer."

The kid frowned. "Why not? I'm old enough."

"That's not the problem. You're driving. You're not from around here and that beer is cold." He looked the kid right in the eye. "You are _not_ planning on saving it until you get to wherever you're going to drink it. So, no. I won't sell it to you."

The kid laughed unpleasantly. "Look. It's _one_ stupid beer. I'm over 21. You _have_ to sell it to me. It's none of your business when or where I drink it, as long I don't drink it in your damned store."

Carter tipped his head and sighed. The kid smirked, knowing he had won.

And then Andrew Carter pointed to the sign behind the register. His blue eyes chilled slightly. "I assume you can read?"

Emblazoned on a large wooden sign were the words "We Reserve the Right to Refuse Service to **Anyone**."

Glowering, the kid stalked out the door, calling Carter's parentage into question as he left. Suddenly feeling better than he had in days, Andrew called out, in an accent he hadn't used in years, " _Bye-bye buddy, auf Wiedersehen!_ " And he began to whistle as he voided out his register.

~TBC~


	2. Cheap Entertainment

A/N: This is a brief look at the previous chapter from a different point of view…

The morning was warm and Arliss was in a great mood. There had been free entertainment from his good friend at the drugstore, and he wanted to find out what had happened. He and Sam had watched the city kid bomb up the street and screech to a halt right outside the drugstore. They had grinned, knowing that wasn't going to sit well with Andy. It never did. And Andy had stepped out onto the porch of the drugstore, arms folded, scowl firmly in place.

They had all heard the kid racing through town, and Sam had nudged Arliss, grinning. "Oughta be a good one, hey?"

Arliss had nodded and chuckled. "Yep! Betcha a buck Andy kicks him out."

"Yer on!"

And the two old friends settled back to watch the show.

Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, the dark-haired kid stormed out the front door of the drugstore, loudly letting the whole town know Andy's parents hadn't been married when he was born before he jumped in his car and tore off down the street.

Arliss smirked and waggled his fingers. Sam chuckled, fished a dollar out of his pocket and dropped into Arliss's waiting palm.

Arliss stood and stretched. "Think I'll go have a chat with Andy."

Sam nodded. "Bring back a couple pops, will ya?"

"Sure."

Arliss shambled across the street and into Andy's place. He found his friend behind the counter holding a bottle of beer.

"Little early, ain't it?"

Andrew grinned. "Nah, just getting' ready to put it back.

Arliss laughed as he followed Andrew back to the cooler "Lemme guess, boy wonder swept in…and you invoked your rights?"

Andrew nodded. "Dumb kid thought I'd let him drink and drive."

Arliss reached into the cooler and grabbed two root beers.

At the front, Arliss paid for the pops, and as he started to leave, Andrew stopped him. "So, who won the bet this time?

Arliss laughed and clapped Andy on the back as he headed out the door.

~TBC~


	3. Who Needs a Bookshelf?

Andrew Carter was leaning on the counter reading a book. He was about halfway through the bestseller. Sam Moody stepped through the front door of the drugstore, and Andrew marked his page, and laid it by the register before looking up.

All the locals knew of Andy's habit of choosing a book from his small selection and then reading it in his spare moments. His friends teased him that he did it so he wouldn't have to bother putting in a bookshelf in his apartment upstairs. It was also well-established that, even if he only had one copy of the book, he would not sell that book until he had finished it. It was just another facet of his character they had grown to accept. If you wanted to be guaranteed a fresh copy of a book, you shopped someplace else. If you wanted to buy a book from a friend…well, you went to Andy's.

"What can I do you out of?"

Sam grinned and replied, "Oh, 'bout ten pounds, I reckon. Looks like you could use it."

The two old friends chuckled at the standard greeting.

San scratched his head and pointed at the book. "Any good?"

Andrew cocked his head, considering. "Ah, about average, I guess. Better than that batch of romances they shipped in a few weeks ago."

Sam chuckled. "You mean you actually read those things?"

"Well, I started to, 'cause things were pretty slow, but Viola Munson came in and bought 'em all in one shot. Even the one I was reading!"

Sam was shocked. "You're kidding! You sold a book you were actually still reading? That's practically a sin against nature, boy!"

Andrew cracked up. Finally, he said, "Well, to tell ya the truth, the book was pretty boring, anyway. I like science-fiction and westerns the best."

Sam wandered over to the book display and said, "Me, I like the hard-boiled detective stuff. I especially like spy stories and war stories. There's some really good ones out there."

Pain Andrew couldn't mask laced his voice. Softly, he replied, "I suppose there is. It's just not my cup of tea."

Sam turned to him. "Ah, damn, Andy, I'm sorry." He stood awkwardly for a moment watching his friend. He knew Andy had been a POW back in the war…but it was something he refused to talk about. And Sam had forgotten.

Andrew shook his head and held up a hand. "Don't, Sam. Don't apologize. It's okay." He smiled. "Look, did you come in here just to give me a hard time, or did you need something?"

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot! Leona wants you to come to lunch after church Sunday."

Warily, Andrew eyed his friend. "Is she inviting another one of her cousins?"

Sam laughed at that. "Nope, I made her promise to stop trying to fix you up. Told her you ain't broken! Nah. It's just us, but she wants to make a roast, and we'll never eat that much by ourselves."

"In that case, you got a deal. Let me swing by here and change. I plan on beatin' the pants off you at horseshoes, and I don't wanna mess up my suit."

Sam grinned. "That'll be the day!"

The bell above door chimed, and a couple of women came in and headed down the aisles. They were immediately followed by an older couple who stepped through the door bickering loudly.

Sam pointed to the book by the register. "Have fun, Andy. Looks like it may be a while before you find out what happens next!" He left, laughing, as Andrew rolled his eyes.

~TBC~


	4. Flags

No one could deny that Andy Carter was an odd duck. But there were a couple of things about him that even the locals just couldn't explain to anybody. And one of those things was the flags. After a while, folks got used to them, and nobody tried. In fact, they came in kind of handy. For example, "Just turn left down by Carter's Drugstore, you know, the place with the three flags." And people would know just where you meant.

Andy had installed the flags right before he opened the store. He had taken some flak from the city council over them, but in typical Andy Carter fashion, he had responded to their letter with a simple question. He had asked to see the statute prohibiting them. The flags had stayed. He replaced them as needed, so they were always in good condition. But he never explained them. No one, not even his closest friends in town had ever had the nerve to ask him about them. Somehow, the subject just seemed taboo.

Arliss and Sam were sitting in their usual spots in front of the hardware store. The weather was hot and sticky, and the air seemed heavy with expectation. Arliss wrinkled his brow with concern. "Sam, ain't it after 10?"

Sam yawned. "Yeah. Andy ain't open yet. Noticed that too. Wonder what's wrong?"

"Dunno. But, must be somethin'."

Arliss stood up and ambled across towards the drugstore. He had made it halfway when the door suddenly opened and Andy stepped out onto the porch. Arliss was relieved, until he realized his friend had not opened the blinds on the front door, nor had he turned his "Closed" sign. The only time he was ever closed was on Sundays or major holidays. He also looked like Hell.

Arliss stepped forward to say something to Andy, but stopped when Andy brushed past him as if he had not seen him. He stepped out and stood in the middle of the street and stared at the three flags for a full minute in complete silence. He walked back inside the store and came out a few moments later with a ladder. He placed it up against the side of the store, and climbed up, and removed one of the flags.

Sam had come across to join Arliss. Andrew seemed to notice his friends for the first time, and he turned to Arliss, and mutely handed him one end of the flag. They reverently folded the flag as Sam stood at attention. As Andrew held it close to his chest, under his crossed arms, and gazed up at the two remaining flags, Sam picked up the ladder and set it back inside the door.

Arliss placed a hand on Andy's shoulder. No one knew much about Andy's time overseas, but there had been clues. Arliss was not stupid. There had always been three flags, Old Glory in the center, the Union Jack to one side, and the French flag to the other. And now? "I am sorry, my friend."

Andrew nodded tightly as Sam silently placed his hand on his arm, and he and Arliss turned and walked back across the street.

Sadly, they watched as Andy scrubbed a hand across his face and shuffled into the store.

The store did not open that day.

~TBC~


	5. Flags, Pt 2

He had known this day would come.

Andrew Carter sat staring at the folded flag sitting on his coffee table. He had wondered which flag would come down first. If it had been the one of his American brothers, it would have been awkward. He supposed he would have simply bought another flag.

But as it turned out, it wasn't.

And now…now he was gone. It was hard to believe. He picked up the telegram and read it, for the tenth time. The hateful words never changed. He dropped it onto the table. He hadn't eaten all day. He had gotten the message early that morning, and, other than bringing in the flag, he hadn't moved from his chair all afternoon. His mind drifted to the other part of the telegram. He had promised to call this afternoon.

He had spent the time remembering…allowing himself to grieve, to regret they had not done all the things they had planned after liberation. To remember the friendship they had forged—the one that had stood the test of time and so many years. They had always been there for each other, no matter what else was going on in their lives. They all had. That had the true legacy of Stalag 13—not only had they helped the Allies win the war, but they had all formed an unbreakable bond. He sighed, and poured himself a drink. It was early, but this was not exactly a normal day.

No one had come by, or called. He appreciated that. He was not in any shape to deal with anyone. He checked his watch. 14:57. Almost time. He moved his phone from the hallway and placed it next to him. He steeled himself. This would not be easy on either of them. Death was never easy.

The phone rang, and Andrew picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hallo, Andrew." His voice was rough, and sad…

"Hello, Peter…"

~TBC~

A/N: I was going to leave it up to the reader, but I realized the last chapter needed closure…


	6. In a Hurry

Rick Holmes was horrified. He had a very heavy date with Kara Tilson and he was out of protection. And he was supposed to pick her up in exactly twelve minutes. And she was the hottest girl in school. And she had the hots for him. He knew this because Bud Anderson had told him she had told his girlfriend Clarissa's best friend Mandy that she really thought he was gorgeous…or that he had great eyes…or maybe it was his hair…or something.

Anyway, it had come down through the grapevine that Kara wanted a date with him, and Rick was happy to oblige. Rumor had it that Kara was pretty easy, too. So, tonight, he had planned on taking her to a movie and then to Lookout Point. It was the local Lover's Lane, as the old fogeys called it. It wasn't scenic, you couldn't see a damned thing anywhere around it, and it didn't look out over anything. The local joke was that once the girls heard that was where they were headed, they would holler out the car windows to their friends, "Look out, girls!"

Rick considered his options. There weren't many. He didn't have time to head to the other side of town, where he usually shopped for essentials such as these, so he was stuck with the only other alternative…Old Man Carter. Great! He headed over to the drugstore, remembering to keep his speed down, and close his door quietly when he got out. No point in making the old guy mad. He needed to get in and out as quickly as possible. He glanced at his watch as he hurried in the door…Nine minutes.

Arliss was seated next to the woodstove in the drugstore, reading the paper. Andy had heard the bell and had headed up to the counter to take care of his customer. As he always did, Arliss eavesdropped on the action up front.

Rick strode in the front door, the annoying bell announcing his presence. The old man looked up from behind the counter and smiled. "How are you, Rick? How's your mom?"

 _Oh, my God, please do not bring Mother into this!_ Rick thought in exasperation. "Fine, Mr. Carter. We're all just fine."

He quickly grabbed the item he wanted and dropped it onto the counter, glancing at his watch. He smiled…7 minutes.

Andrew picked up the box, and started to ring it up before doing a double-take. His eyebrows shot up and he stared at the young man in front of him.

"Really, Richard?"

Rick's heart sank. "What? I'm in a hurry."

Andrew glanced at the box. " _Obviously_."

Rick flushed at the dry comment. "You don't understand!"

Andrew chuckled at that. "I'll tell you what. I'll sell the condoms to you on one condition."

Rick's eyes lit up with anticipation. "Great! What's that?" _4 minutes…he could still do this!_

"You go get your dad, and bring him down here. Then, I will sell you as many boxes as you want. Deal?"

Rick's jaw dropped in disbelief. He sighed, and silently left the shop, the bell cheerfully signaling his exit.

Andrew picked up the box and returned it to the shelf and then headed back to his chair next to the stove. Arliss glanced around his paper.

"You are a cruel man, Andy Carter." He smirked. "Besides, you know he'll just get 'em someplace else."

Andy picked up his book. "I know. But he won't get 'em from me."

And Arliss knew the subject was closed. He shook his head and went back to his paper.


	7. Trick or Treat

Andrew Carter loved Halloween. His Halloween display was the same each year, but it was always the hit of the town. Part of the attraction was the fact he always gave out the best candy in town. On one end of the drugstore's porch, he built a lab, and his mad scientist's costume would have done Boris Karloff proud. He had a huge Frankenstein's monster he had bought at an auction twenty years ago on a trip to California when he decided to take one of those television studio tours. He grinned remembering his lunch in the studio commissary with a group of actors who were getting ready to film a new sitcom about a group of POWs wreaking havoc on the Germans.

They were nice fellas, and he discovered later he enjoyed the show, even if hadn't been much like his own experiences during the war. He was amazed by the fact that they had named a character after him, just because he had agreed to provide technical advice for his counterpart. Consequently, he had secretly had a ball for the next six years, since the producers had agreed not to publicly acknowledge his contributions.

He was drawn out of his memories by the first group of kids clattering up the steps. "Hi, Mr. Carter, trick or treat!"

~HH~

A/N: Thanks to my granddaughter Robbi for the Frankenstein idea…Happy Halloween, everyone!


	8. How Could You Forget

A/N: For the "Forgotten" holiday today (though I know not everyone has forgotten...just sayin')

Andy Carter grinned. He was feeling pretty good this morning. He grinned, remembering his time back in the Stalag, how his best mate had looked forward to this day. Peter had planned for months in advance and had taken great delight in pulling off the perfect stunt each year. Andrew had always enjoyed watching the reactions of the others in Barracks Two. Sometimes, he reflected sadly, those pranks were the only things they did have to look forward to…

Andy shook away those dark thoughts and went about his morning routine, getting ready to open the drugstore. Routine, except for one minor detail. He rummaged around the shelves towards the back of the store, where he kept odds and ends of bric-a-brac, until he found exactly what he was looking for….

About six hours and a dozen customers later, Arliss and Sam were seated in their chairs across from the store, staring at each other in bewilderment. Arliss frowned. "Did you see it when you went in for the pops?" Arliss himself had seen the situation when he had gone in for the newspaper just after Andy had opened the store.

Sam nodded. "Sure did."

Arliss prodded, "Did you ask him about it?"

Sam smirked. "You know I did."

"Well? What did he say?"

Sam shrugged. "Nothin'! He just smiled at me an' rang up the pops. Not only that, a couple others asked him about it, and he didn't say nothin' to them either, just looked at 'em like they were nuts."

Arliss shook his head, and the two old men sat back, contemplating their friends' strange behavior.

Both men pulled their jackets closer around them. It was really too chilly to be sitting outside in the early spring weather, but it had been a long winter, and the men were determined to enjoy what sunlight they could get.

They watched as a few other customers enter the store, and then leave a short time later, bags in hands, confused looks on their faces.

Now the two were really perplexed. Arliss frowned. "You think ol' Andy's finally slipped a cog?"

Sam considered the question. "Anything's possible, I guess. Don't seem likely, though. Seemed perfectly okay yesterday."

Arliss nodded. "True. 'Sides…if there was anything wrong with him, Viola woulda had it all over town by now. Andy had his appointment over t'the VA last week and her daughter works there."

Sam frowned. "The doctors and nurses over there don't gossip about their patients, Arliss."

Arliss grinned. "Nah, course not. But her daughter cleans up in the lab, and she inherited her mother's gossip gene. Can't keep no kinda secret from that woman."

"Viola better never let Andy catch her at it. Leona either for that matter." Sam's wife had a soft spot for the eccentric druggist.

"What we been telling Viola for years. Anyway, gettin' back to the matter at hand…"

Arliss watched Andy come out onto the porch opposite and begin to move some of the items he had displayed there inside in preparation for closing. When Andy noticed him watching, he smiled and waved nonchalantly. And the reason for his friend's behavior suddenly hit Arliss full in the face. He began to chuckle, which quickly became a full-blown laugh. And Andy stopped working and grinned his signature loopy grin.

Sam was looking at the two of them as if they had lost their minds. "Wanna fill me in?" he said a bit testily.

Finally, as soon as Arliss caught his breath, he looked at Sam. "I can't believe we forgot what day it is…"

"What?"

And Andy Carter, standing in front of his drugstore with a bunch of plastic grapes tied to the top of his head hollered "APRIL FOOLS!"


	9. I Always Know

Andrew had just come up the aisle to turn his "Closed" sign over and shut his blinds. On his way up the aisle he saw Arliss heading up the walkway and called out, "Hey Arliss, you want some coffee?"

Before Arliss reached the porch, a man wearing a paper bag over his head barreled around him, pushing him to the ground, and charged through the door. Arliss struggled to his feet but, fearing the worst, was unsure what to do.

Arliss heard Andy greet the customer. "Evening. Can I—" Andy broke off and Arliss heard nothing more for a moment. There was a sudden scuffle and a soft thud, and Arliss stood mesmerized at the scene before him.

The man pointed the gun at Andy behind the counter, shouting "Gimme your money, old man!"

And Andy's laconic reply, "Seriously?"

Deftly, Andy plucked the bag off the man's head, and twisted the gun from his grip. And just like that, he was pointing the gun at the would-be-robber.

Shocked, the robber shouted, "You can't do that!"

Andy stared at the man. His expression was deadpan, and his voice was cold as he observed quietly. "Really? _I just did_. Don't move."

Arliss quietly stepped to the phone behind the counter and called the sheriff's station for help. He watched Andy carefully, worried. Because he had never seen anyone's eyes _that_ cold before.

Sheriff Fredericks and his deputies showed up and hauled the robber to jail. Andy stood by quietly, and never said an unnecessary word. Arliss was more worried than ever, especially when Andy simply ushered everyone out the door, and refused to talk to anyone, locking it behind them.

…

That night, Andrew spent the night in that same self-imposed silence. He ate very little and spoke to no one at all. The incident with the would-be robber had shaken him badly, and dark memories from the war flooded him, and nightmares plagued him.

The next morning, Arliss and Sam were in their accustomed spots across from the drugstore, discussing what had happened the night before. They were both hoping against hope that Andy would open the store as usual and that things would get back to normal.

They were relieved when Andy opened the door right on time and stepped out with a barrel of umbrellas. He set it down and straightened up, shading his eyes as a taxi pulled up in front of the store. A man stepped out of the cab and turned around to look up at the sign on the side of the building. The man grinned happily, and as the cabby pulled a beat-up old duffel bag from the trunk, Andy stared at the man in disbelief.

"'ey Andrew me ol' mate!"

Andrew stood simply staring at his best friend. After a long moment he said, "How did you know? How did you know I needed you?"

And Peter Newkirk shrugged, an unfathomable look in his eyes. "What d'ya think? I always know, mate."

~HH~


	10. Four Chairs

For the first time in anyone's memory, there were four chairs ranged around the front of the hardware store and four old men seated in them, shooting the breeze and watching the world go by. One of them had caused a considerable stir in town, because he happened to be five things: 1) A Newcomer 2) British 3) Wealthy 4) Mysterious and 5) SINGLE.

At least, this was Viola Munson's opinion, and since she was the town's most prolific and skilled gossip and husband-hunter, Peter Newkirk's fate was sealed within 7 ½ minutes of his arrival on Andy Carter's doorstep. And Peter had taken no end of grief from his three companions over his dire circumstances regarding the widow in the week since his arrival. (His exact opinion? "Daft bird's worse than an 'eat seekin' missile after a furnace in the Arctic!")

Arliss and Sam were seated on either side of Pete, as they had quickly christened their new friend, and Andy. They noticed that Pete always referred to Andy as "Andrew," and Andy called Pete, "Peter" or else they used their last names. Arliss and Sam both respected and understood that. It was a bond forged over the years… through fire. It wasn't something they ever discussed. It was just—well it just _was._ Therefore, neither of them ever called the two anything but "Andy," or "Pete." It was their way of showing the respect they felt for what the two had done… had been through.

But they sure as hell would never say that out loud. They'd never ruin it like that….and so four old men spent this early spring Sunday afternoon gossiping and giving each other a hard time. And celebrating the fact that their friend Andy—Andrew—was still with them. Because only a little over a week before, a bad guy with a gun had tried to change that. But Andy was too stubborn—and maybe a little too crazy—to give in to a punk with a pistol.

Arliss thought about that as he gazed across at the two flags fluttering in the breeze—one American, one British. _He still missed seeing the French flag that had flown for so long with its brothers_ … He understood exactly why Andy had done what he did. The kid had fought in Germany all those years ago…had fought to do what was right. How could he do any different now?

He reached over into the cooler Andy had brought from the drugstore filled with cold pop and grabbed four root beers. Newkirk looked slightly askance, but Carter grinned at him. "It's Sunday." And gave no further explanation.

Newkirk cocked an eyebrow at his friend but said no more as they all opened their bottles and Arliss raised his. "I propose a toast."

They all dutifully raised their bottles and looked to Arliss, wondering where this was leading.

Arliss smiled, a little sadly. "To Andy, who followed his heart, _if not his brain_ , a week ago. To Pete… Andy has told us you were one of his comrades in the war, and that he wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. So… Andy, I won't ever bring this up again…but it needs to be said. Sometimes being a hero is just not letting the bad guy do what he wants. And you two are most definitely heroes. So, thank you."

They all touched bottles and Sam smiled, and he and Arliss drank. Peter and Andrew on the other hand, were stunned for a moment and simply stared at Arliss. As one, the two men looked across at the flags and back at each other. They finally drank, and Peter nodded to Andrew, who spoke quietly for both of them. "You're welcome."


End file.
